Without access to hard evidence and witnesses, T’Prynn would not be able to form a hypothesis determining who was responsible for the death of her friend and former commanding officer. But between the reports of increased pirate activity in the Taurus Reach and escalating demonstrations of aggression by Klingon forces in that sector, it seemed clear to her that there was a significant breach in Vanguard’s operational security.

That is where my service will be of the most value,she decided. If I am to redeem myself and reclaim my career, those who destroyed theNowlan must be brought to justice … and Star-fleet’s control over the Taurus Reach must be restored.

In twenty-five days the transport would deliver her and Pennington to Ajilon. She had that long to come up with a plan.

It wasn’t much time. But it would be enough.

13

February 26, 2267

Reyes pulled back the center tine of his fork and let it snap forward, catapulting a live gaghworm across his cell.

The wriggling thing sizzled as it struck his cell’s force field. It fell to the floor and was still. Tendrils of vapor rose from its lightly browned skin. Reyes leaned forward, picked it up, and bit off a piece. He chewed for a few seconds, then nodded at Ezthene.

“You’re right. They do taste better cooked.”

“I am pleased my advice proved useful,” the Tholian replied from the opposite cell.

Gorkon had adjourned their meeting for a short lunch break. Rather than send Ezthene back to his artificial environment—which entailed a tedious protocol of adjusting the composition of gasses in his insulated cabin, increasing their pressure by a few orders of magnitude, and raising the temperature until the compartment was as hot as a furnace—Gorkon had elected to let Ezthene remain in the brig with Reyes.

One by one, Reyes launched the gaghin his bowl at the force field. When he was sure they were all at least medium rare, he scooped them off the deck and back into his bowl.

“Just one drawback to this little plan,” he said.

“And that is?”

“Now my cell stinks like fried worms.”

Ezthene waved his upper limbs in an “oh, well” gesture he had learned from Reyes. “No plan is perfect,” he said.

Through a mouthful of half-masticated worms, Reyes mumbled, “Got that right.” Barely cooked gaghwas better than live gagh,but he didn’t care for it either way. Forcing himself to swallow the greasy, mushy mess, he reminded himself it was protein and he needed it to keep his strength up. At least they let me drink clean water,he thought with some relief. He picked up his cup and took a swig to wash the taste of gaghfrom his mouth.

Poking inside the bowl with his fork to find the next-most-cooked worm, he asked Ezthene, “What do you eat on this ship? I can’t imagine the Klingons have a menu packed with all your favorites.”

“My species does not consume organic matter as fuel,” the quadruped replied. “We process chemicals from our atmosphere to energize our internal functions.”

Reyes grinned. “All you need is the air you breathe, eh? Convenient.”

“Yes. Quite.”

A few minutes later as Reyes swallowed the last of his worms, the door to the brig slid open with a soft hiss. The Zin’za’s commanding officer, Captain Kutal, walked in. He was followed by Gorkon, who wore a disgruntled expression.

Unable to resist the urge to needle his captor, Reyes asked, “What’s the matter, Gorkon? You look like someone shot your targ.”

“Would that they had,” Gorkon said. He came to a halt between Reyes and Ezthene. “I had hoped I might be able to muster enough support among my allies to bring you with me to address the chancellor in an open session of the High Council. Unfortunately, my peers are not as willing to hear foreign perspectives as I am—and unwilling to do so at all in that august chamber.”

Ezthene replied, “Imagine my disappointment.” The dryness of his sarcasm was only magnified by his vocoder.

“It’s just as well,” Reyes said. “I wouldn’t have had a thing to wear.”

Gorkon frowned. “This is a more serious setback than either of you appears to grasp.”

“No, I grasp it just fine,” Reyes said. “I simply don’t care.” He folded his arms. “What’s the problem, anyway? Aren’t you Sturka’s go-to guy? If you’ve got his ear, why do you need to go marching us in front of the council? Or could it be that Sturka doesn’t want to see us in there, either? Do you need the council’s political muscle to get him to cooperate?”

The councillor’s frown became a glare aimed squarely at Reyes. “Very astute of you, Diego. You’re right. Sturka isresistant to granting you an audience. However, even if he were inclined to let you two speak for the record, it would still be necessary to appease a majority of the council to make such a public audience happen.”

Ezthene asked, “So where does that leave us?”

“In custody,” Reyes said, cutting off Gorkon.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Gorkon said. “It will take time for me to lay the requisite political groundwork for this meeting.”

Captain Kutal interjected, “Assuming current events don’t render it completely impossible.”

Reyes’s curiosity was aroused. “What current events?”

Gorkon shot a reproachful stare at Kutal, then said to Reyes, “Hostilities between Klingon forces and Starfleet have been escalating in recent weeks. Rumors of war are afoot.”

“As always,” Reyes said.

Gorkon dipped his chin. “Well put. In any event, I must return to the First City on Qo’noS. Until I am able to return, I need to ask both of you to be patient.”

From the other cell Ezthene replied, “We seem to have little alternative.”

“Not hard to be patient in the brig,” Reyes added.

For a moment Gorkon took on a pensive countenance. “It is rather disingenuous of me to ask for your aid and counsel while treating you like prisoners of war.” He faced Ezthene. “I regret that more of the ship cannot be refitted to your environmental needs, but perhaps we could arrange to provide you with some sort of intellectual diversion.”

“I would be satisfied with a simple increase in the ambient temperature of my compartment.”

Nodding, Gorkon said, “Very well. Captain Kutal, please see to it the adjustment is made. Also, arrange for Mister Reyes to be moved to private quarters at once.”

“Yes, Councillor,” Kutal said, obedient but also visibly seething at the order. “May I recommend, however, that Mister Reyes be monitored by armed guards at all times?”

Gorkon glowered at Kutal with a mixture of annoyance and contempt. “Yes, obviously,Captain.” Adopting a calmer tone, he said to Reyes, “Will there be anything else before I depart?”

“I could use something to read.”

That drew a thin smile from Gorkon. “I’ll see what I can do.”

14

March 22, 2267

Pennington stepped out of the shuttle onto the surface of Ajilon Prime and decided the last three weeks with T’Prynn had been the longest year of his life.

He stepped clear of the other passengers exiting the shuttle and set down his duffel. The waters of Tanada Bay sparkled in the morning sunlight. Colorful boats darted across the azure waves. A crisp, cool breeze kissed his face and carried with it the invigorating scent of saltwater.

This might not be a Federation planet yet, but it will be soon,he mused. Between its natural beauty and its position on the Klingon border, he speculated that its application for membership would be fast-tracked through the Federation Council.